


To Love What Death Can Touch

by SensationalSunburst



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, I'm trying to hard to write fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, drabble babble, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 15:30:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10619826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SensationalSunburst/pseuds/SensationalSunburst
Summary: “You’re making this really difficult, Specs.” He ground out, but Ignis could feel the shaking in the fingers that clutched at him. As he placed his hands over Noct’s, the image of a much smaller, much angrier version of his Prince flashing through his mind. Back to a time when those tiny hands had tried so hard to appear much bigger, to seem much more dangerous that Noctis could ever truly hope to be.“Good, you made my entire life difficult.” Ignis snapped back.ORHanging between life and death, Ignis has to be convinced to stay.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A short drabble that came into my head today at work.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading! :)

“Ignis, you need to wake up.” Noctis said gently. Ignis considered feigning ignorance, pretending that the blue and black bruise of the night sky spread about him, freckled with more stars than he'd ever seen in Lucis was reality, instead of some sort of dying dream. He considered pretending that the body he could feel next to him was real, that its owner lived and breathed and hadn’t walked with his stiff right leg up the wet steps of the Citadel to his death. But Ignis had never been one for pretenses, so he sat up slowly, and turned to face the King he’d never gotten to see and smiled.

“I refuse.”

Noctis let out a confused, frustrated huff and pushed himself into a seated position, shoulders hunched under the weight of his kingly raiment.

“You can’t, Prom and Gladio are waiting for you.” He said.

Ignis ignored him and reached out to trace the harsh lines of his aged face. Noctis’s frown only deepened, but he didn’t move himself away as Ignis greedily took in his visage, fingertips mapping each wrinkle, every scar.

“So this is the man you grew to be.” He said, and there were tears coming now, he could feel them dripping down his face and against his neck, but he didn’t bother to wipe them away. “You look so much like your father. Although, you are in desperate need of a shave, I daresay.”

“You can’t stay here.” Noctis insisted, catching Ignis’s hands in his own from where they were pressed into the hollows of his cheeks.

They were seated on the haven just outside of Insomina’s walls, lit by the glowing blue glyphes. It was their shared, secret place, a spot that their company had blown by without comment at the beginning of their ill-fated adventure. It was where Ignis had taken Noctis to study the stars as a boy, safe enough to be allowed, but far enough from the city to get the young prince’s heart racing. There was a small fire going, just before the tent they’d shared on their entire journey, but as normal and real everything felt, from the stone digging into his legs, to the hot desert wind tossing sand up into their faces, Ignis knew, as one instinctively knew things in a dream, that this was not quite real. This, he knew in his soul, was a no man’s land, tottering between one world and the next. Between a world where Noctis was dead, and a world where he was not.

“I’ve earned the right to be selfish.” Ignis said, running his fingers through Noctis’s too long hair. It was clean now, and dry, and Ignis knew it should be wet because it had been raining, and it had always taken the Prince’s hair so long to dry. “I have never asked you for anything, you must allow me this.”

“They need you.” Noctis replied. And even the crease between his eyebrows looked like his father’s. Ignis reached up and pressed against the deep wrinkle there, trying to smooth the worry line with shaking fingers.

“And I need you.” He said, “What do you expect me to do without you? I built my life around you and your care. Keeping you informed and fed, and healthy... _attempting_ to keep you safe. Obviously I have failed in the later… Obviously.”

“Iggy…” Noctis tried, but Ignis kept talking, cutting him off as his throat clicked around the sobs he would not release, not when their time was so limited and he had so much to say.

“ ‘Tis a fearful thing to love what death can touch,” Ignis quoted, cupping his King’s rough cheeks, trying to burn that face into his memory. There were even little crows feet around his deep blue eyes, and when did his eyes get so dark? What happened to the cobalt that used to glare up at him? What else had the Crystal stolen? Ignis scooted closer, close enough to knock his knees against Noct’s, ignorant of how the golden brace dug into his knee.

“How do you expect me to leave you in this frightful place alone? I promised, Noctis, I promised I wouldn’t. Do you expect me to go back on that?” Ignis asked. Noctis drew his bottom lip between his teeth, another bad habit picked up from Prompto, and shook his head.

“I’m not alone, Iggy. Luna is here. Dad is here. You’ll be here too, eventually.” He tried for a smile, but didn’t quite manage to get his lips up. Frustrated, he fisted both hands in Ignis’s favorite purple vest and pulled him forward to crash their foreheads together.

“You’re making this really difficult, Specs.” He ground out, but Ignis could feel the shaking in the fingers that clutched at him. As he placed his hands over Noct’s, the image of a much smaller, much angrier version of his Prince flashing through his mind. Back to a time when those tiny hands had tried so hard to appear much bigger, to seem much more dangerous that Noctis could ever truly hope to be.

“Good, you made my entire life difficult.” Ignis snapped back.

“That’s not true.”

“It’s not.” Ignis agreed immediately, swallowing thickly. “It’s not true. You gave my life meaning, Noctis, dear Noctis.”  

“You’re going to wake up in a minute.” Noctis declared, pushing Ignis back and away. He leveled a determined look into Ignis’s misty green eyes and shook him once.

“You’re going to wake up, and you’re going to find a new meaning. And you’re going to watch over Prom for me, because he needs you to, and then, years and years from now, you’re going to tell me everything that I missed. That’s an order. That’s my last order to you, do you understand?” He said, and now there were tears in his eyes too, but Ignis couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty for it. Noctis was trying for authoritative, deepening his voice the same way Regis used to when meeting new people, but it sounded off; too forced. It didn’t match up with the trembling hands on his vest and the way he was grinding his teeth together, another bad habit Ignis had never managed to break. He’d never worn his mouthguard on their trip, threw it away most likely. Or maybe, if he dug under the Regalia’s seats, he’d find it there, discarded and forgotten.

“Do you understand?” Noctis demanded, but his voice was breaking and Ignis’s hands automatically flew up to wipe the tears from under his King’s eyes.

“Yes, your Majesty.” Ignis promised, unable to deny him anything, even now.

“Walk tall, Iggy. I love you.” Noctis said.

“And I you.” Ignis said.

 

Ignis woke up with the sun rapidly heating the tears still sliding down his face.


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many, Many Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't leave it this ending so sadly.

Years later, Ignis woke to the feeling of something cold and wet pressing against his forehead, and immediately knew that he was either dead, or dreaming, as he could clearly see a pale hand attempting to balance the characteristic shape of a can of Ebony coffee on his face.

“Told ya’ that’d work.” And that was Prompto, without a doubt. He’d just buried Prompto; just laid the human embodiment of sunshine to rest high in the wide open hills next to Gladio and just in front of where Noctis’s Royal Tomb was hidden away among towering fir trees, so Ignis concluded that he was, in fact, _finally_ dead. Taken by the same disease that had robbed Eos of Gladio and Cid, and, if memory served, Cor Leonis as well. MTs, as it turned out, had spewed more than just foul smoke upon death, that black and red miasma had been toxic.

Ignis remained motionless on his back on what felt like grass, considering that he could feel it’s blades tickling his neck, and shifted his eye’s focus from the can to the one holding it.  

Noctis Lucis Caelum, twenty years old, bright eyed and smiling peered down at him from under a halo of spiky blue-black hair, before looking over Ignis towards where Prompto was still chattering about some nonsense or the other.

Ignis had never heard a sweeter sound.

“Hey there, Specs. Took you long enough.” Noctis drawled, happiness seeping into his voice. He scooted back and grasped Ignis’s hand to pull the man to his feet with a light grunt. Ignis allowed himself to be pulled, spotting where Prompto, young, so young, was still squatting in the grass, and Gladio, who was climbing to his feet as behind him.

“Well?” Noctis smirked, settling a warm, heavy hand on Ignis’s shoulder, “Tell me everything.”

“Of course.” Ignis said and lifted his hand to block his eyes from the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, and for commenting as well.  
> :D

**Author's Note:**

> Again! Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to comment below! I love feedback! :D
> 
> Title and quote from:  
> “Tis a Fearful Thing
> 
> ‘Tis a fearful thing  
> to love what death can touch.
> 
> A fearful thing  
> to love, to hope, to dream, to be –
> 
> to be,  
> And oh, to lose.
> 
> A thing for fools, this,
> 
> And a holy thing,
> 
> a holy thing  
> to love.
> 
> For your life has lived in me,  
> your laugh once lifted me,  
> your word was gift to me.
> 
> To remember this brings painful joy.
> 
> ‘Tis a human thing, love,  
> a holy thing, to love  
> what death has touched.”
> 
>  
> 
> ― Yehuda HaLevi


End file.
